


His Muscles

by Chibiwolf999



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-21 01:22:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17033684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chibiwolf999/pseuds/Chibiwolf999
Summary: Here’s an old fic I did for  @hubbabubbagumpop’s birthday a year ago. Thought I might share since I got my old laptop back.





	His Muscles

The Inquisitor was brushing her horse down near the front of the stables after her daily ride. She had always enjoyed looking after her own horse even though there were stable boys to do it for her. She had been talking with Scout Harding who liked to accompany her on occasion. They were mostly talking about the mission in the Hissing Wastes they had returned from earlier that week. Harding was doing most of the talking because the Inquisitor was distracted by something she saw.

What she saw was a shirtless man whose rippling muscles quaked with every downward swing of his axe as he chopped wood. The two weren’t that far away from him so she could just get a scent of his musky odor as he sweat from both the heat and the exertion. She could feel herself being drawn towards his toned body, his soft expression, his black hair peppered with grey, which was tied back into a ponytail so she had full view of his profile. The way the sweat tangled itself in his burly chest hair glistened in the afternoon sun. The repeated sound of his gruff voice was making her mind imagine him participating in quite a different activity.

She was brought out of her day dreaming by Harding tapping her on the shoulder.

“Enjoying the view of a certain warden are we?” Harding asked with amusement in her voice.

“W-what? No! Just… Just thinking about the mounds of paper work I have to do.” The Inquisitor tried to recover but her crimson cheeks gave her away.

“Oh come one why don’t you just go talk to him? Maybe asking him for a pint at the tavern? Here let me…” Harding Started to guide her horse into the stables while calling to Blackwall, “Hey Blackwall! The Inquisitor want to talk to you.”

“No, no, no, don’t. Oh, hi Blackwall.” The Inquisitor said as she shot Harding an evil glare.

Blackwall had lodged his axe into the stump he was using to chop wood with and was walking over to her while whipping the back of his neck with a sweat stained rag.

“You wish to speak with me milady?” He asked as he did that ridiculous smile that drove her crazy.

The Inquisitor searched around her surroundings for something to help her think of what to say. Finally her eyes landed on her saddle laying across a fence nearby.

“Umm, well. I was wondering… Wondering if you could help me put away my saddle?” She said with a slight panic. Hoping it didn’t show that she was lying. “I always have a bit of trouble lifting it on my own.”

“Of course, milady.” He said while that infuriating smirk danced across his lips.

He had noticed her lie, even though she was usually very good at lying to others. Mostly to nobles and diplomats that decided to annoy her with trivial things. He decides to play along to try and lessen her obvious embarrassment.

Blackwall took long strides over to the fence that help her saddle, and in one swift motion he lifted it with ease. His muscles barely straining under the weight of the object, but just enough to make the Inquisitor stare at his toned back muscles.

The Inquisitor followed him as he walked into the stables, guiding her horse inside. As she entered Scout Harding gave her a wink and a thumbs up trying to spur her into asking him out.

As the Inquisitor tied her horse up she glanced up at the muscular man standing not two feet away from her. “Thank you for your help.” She said in a slightly wavering tone.

“It’s no trouble at all. I’m always happy to help you Inquisitor.” He said while he whipped his hands on his rag. He hadn’t even been winded by carrying the heavy leather saddle.

Blackwall turned to return to chopping wood when out of impulse the Inquisitor reached out and grabbed his hand. He turned to face her with a look of both confusion and amusement. Realizing what she had done, she quickly retracted her hand from his large calloused one.

“Oh, umm.” She stuttered as she tried to gather her resolve. “Would you, umm, like to go have a drink at the tavern later? Maybe?” She said as she tried to fight the inevitable blush that was slowly creeping across her face.

The burly man chuckled. It rumbled deep in his large barrel chest, and the sound would have made her smile had she not been so nervous.

“I would enjoy your company milady.” He said as he leaned down and gently grabbed her hand and brought it close to his face. He softly placed his lips across her knuckles. All while never breaking eye contact with a sly smile on his face.

Blackwall stood back up. “I look forward to seeing you later then milady.”

That man would be her undoing.


End file.
